


Night Ride

by Griddlebone



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griddlebone/pseuds/Griddlebone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daenerys and Drogo take a midnight ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Ride

Two horses wove a path through the endless grass, their soft footfalls a steady counterpoint to the throbbing, thrumming sounds of the night's insects. Once, a bird cried from somewhere in the distance, and then fell silent. The silver mare followed where the dark stallion led; both riders were still and quiet in the full moon's light.

Daenerys said nothing and asked no questions, but followed Drogo away from the khalasar and into a night that was blessedly quiet and cool. Life among the Dothraki was becoming easier for her with each day that passed, but she was grateful for this respite nonetheless. It did not matter that life was becoming easier, it still was not easy.

She could still feel eyes on her every moment she spent in the khalasar. The khalasar was never quiet, never still, seething constantly with people and animals. Though they were weeks now from Pentos, the Dothraki still seemed a harsh and barbaric people, and their customs were not hers. There were days when she still felt she would never be one of them, and could not hope to ever be their khaleesi. But she knew that she must succeed in this, for if she failed she would lose any chance at her birthright and would wake the dragon, besides. She was not sure which thought terrified her more, and was glad all over again for the quiet of the night, the buzz of insects, the soft sounds of hooves against grass and soft earth.

This, foremost among the ways of the Dothraki, Dany enjoyed. No palanquins for her. No isolation. As khaleesi, she had more freedom than she had ever before known. Wherever her silver would take her, she could go, and none might question her. And as she followed Drogo through the night, silver moon and diamond-bright stars wheeling slowly, slowly overhead, she was ever more conscious of who had gifted her with the silver. Who had lifted her up and out of her brother's reach and let her fly.

On the night of their marriage Drogo had terrified her more than any man had ever done before. He still frightened her sometimes, though this happened less and less often as she came to understand him both as a man and as the Dothraki khal of khals. And as she came to understand her own place here.

She was khaleesi. She had nothing to fear from her khal.

It had taken her a long time, but she finally understood. Drogo had given her power. He expected her to use it.

Even this was frightening. She had spent her entire life being powerless. Being afraid.

To set her fear aside would be like setting the last piece of Daenerys aside. She was not sure what would be left.

She must do this or she would never be khaleesi. If she remained Daenerys, she would fail Viserys and would wake the dragon. They would never go home. All day it had plagued her: she must become khaleesi, must convince Drogo to turn, to ride for Westeros and the Iron Throne and everything her brother coveted. All this, in spite of her brother's threats, was still beyond her reach.

Earlier, with the sun setting and her brother's fury mounting, Dany had not known what to do. To appease her brother, to convince the khal… it had all seemed utterly beyond her. And then, as if by magic, Drogo had appeared at her tent and stolen her away. He had even left his bloodriders and the men of her khas behind. And, almost, she liked it this way: just the two of them, silently wandering across the green sea of grass.

With the moon's light spilling over him, Drogo was almost beautiful. Dany was almost at ease astride her silver mare. The mask of khaleesi felt almost like her own face.

She sat up a little straighter. _I am khaleesi,_ she thought, _and he will expect me to act like it._ How did a khaleesi act, when out riding alone with her khal through a starlit night? Dany had a feeling she knew, and felt an uncomfortable sensation tighten like a knot in her chest.

She had come a long way from the first, strained days of their marriage. She had been afraid of everything then, dreading the arrival of her husband to her tent, and Drogo had responded by treating her as gently as he knew how. One night only she had managed to be bold. On that one night she had taken him, riding him in front of the entire khalasar, for the entire world to see. And yet he had responded with undeniable pleasure. Indeed, he had seemed only to care for her more afterward.

Perhaps now was not the time for fear. Perhaps now was the time to be bold once again.

Dany's heart pounded at the thought. She could not deny the fear, fear that Drogo would become angry with her. Fear that he might…

She could not think it, and forced the thought from her head. For Drogo was not Viserys. Drogo possessed true power, while her brother had only his ambition and his formidable temper.

Clinging fiercely to this thought, Dany urged her silver to move more quickly. The silver, as if only waiting for permission, shot forward. The ground here was level and smooth beneath the grass, and the full moon provided plenty of light, but Dany was still terrified by the frantic pounding of hooves and the way the landscape seemed to fly past. She caught a brief glance of Drogo looking –almost—surprised, and then they left him behind.

She could not look back, could do little beyond hanging on for dear life, but she thought she heard Drogo bark a laugh as she raced past. As the silver swept effortlessly across the sea of grass and away from the khalasar, she certainly hoped he was following. If he didn't, she might never find her way back.

Slowly, courage returned to her. She had never been a strong rider, but the silver made it easy to believe that she might be. She closed her eyes, shutting out bright moonlight and dark sky and eerie, silvered grass. It felt almost as if they were flying. Instead of a silver mare, Daenerys imagined a dragon with wings spread, the stars arrayed beneath them rather than above. Upon her dragon's back, she ruled heaven and earth, and no man could catch them.

But her silver was no dragon. Drogo looped an arm around her and pulled her bodily from her place on the silver's back to sit awkwardly in front of him, both legs dangling and utterly aware that if he were to let her go she would fall. That he had not slowed at all in capturing her only made it more terrifying. If she had angered him, if he thought that she had been trying to run away…

Fear nearly froze her, but with wide eyes she could see that the great khal was smiling. Smiling, on the verge of laughing. And his strong arms were firm around her, holding her safely in place. He would not let her fall.

He signaled to his horse and they gradually slowed to a walk. The silver ran on into the night, plunging ahead across the endless plain. Dany imagined that the mare was pleased by her victory even though she had lost her rider.

For a long while Drogo simply followed the trail the silver had left. Dany said nothing. She could think of nothing to say.

She did not realize that they had stopped moving until Drogo dismounted. She stayed where she was, uncertain of what he wanted her to do, until his hands gripped her waist and he lifted her down to stand before him.

She expected a rebuke, but he only cupped her face in his hands and turned her face up to look at him; he had not touched her so gently since the night of their marriage, his callused hands featherlight and warm against her cheeks. Dany felt caught, as if her heart dared not even beat. "Moon of my life," he said at last, his voice serious, his dark eyes catching hers, "you would run from me?"

For a moment Dany could not breathe. She could hardly think. What could she possibly say? That she might have run, if things were different, if she were not khaleesi, if she had a dragon to fly, if so much did not depend upon her? And then she found an answer, and knew it for the right one: "Only to see if you could catch me."


End file.
